


Twenty Five Pills Down

by do_not_revive



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Letters, Other, Post-Death Note, Presumed Dead, Sad, Sad Ending, Suicidal Stiles Stilinski, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 10:07:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16303127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/do_not_revive/pseuds/do_not_revive
Summary: It wouldn't be very poetic...oh well. Death can only be so poetic;





	Twenty Five Pills Down

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I'm sorry

He's eighteen. That's how many pills he counts out, one for each orbit around the sun. He thinks it's poetic.  
Well, he also thinks three legged dogs are poetic. In the sense of, everything that you are, will kill you. He could walk outside to be met with an ax murderer, he could get hit by someone on the highway, he could fall alseep in the bathtub. He could open his father's newest bottle of whiskey. Ah, yes. poetic. That in a sense of, those closest to you could kill you.  
So funny to say that, as the name he's scribbling gets harder to concentrate on.

**Eight shots in, one pill down**

And the same song instrumental echoing in the background.

 _To: Scott_.  
Sorry to end things like this. Knew you wanted to go to college together. YOU did. Keyword haha.. I never told you i didn't want to go. Well, here you go: I don't give a fuck about college. I just wanna sleep and get high. Maybe play video games. I forgot your favorite game, does that make me a bad friend? Well, more than how you found this letter? Does that sentence make sense? I don't think so. I love you. I always will love you. You're my brother, and i hope you never forget me.  ~~If the roles were reverse~~ i ~~wouldn't~~ sorry

Would he understand the situation? Would Scott understand his pain at all? How do you tell your best friend that you've wanted to die since you first fell asleep? How wonderful it was to not exist for such a short time. How freeing it would be to have that forever.  
See, Stiles believed in a god. Did it...make him a bad person for still continuing? No...no, it doesn't. It just.... ugh, nine shots later.

 **Two pills down**.

His vision is blurry, not from the tablets, but the nectar.

 _To: Lydia._  
Sorry I was so creepy in middle school. Sorry I only stopped freshman year. Sorry for washing your designer bag with rubbing alcohol. It didn't even hurt it but i know how mad you are. Hope you aren't anymore. I'm giving you my laptop, you said yours was slowing down? Well, I have one dad says he'll get me for Christmas, you can have it. It's expensive too haha don't even know why he agreed to it. It's a wide ass screen too so you can binge all the gay drama movies you please with ease that ~~fucking~~ rhymed holy shit

He giggled and walked over to the fridge. Hey, why go hungry at a time like this? They haven't gone shopping in two weeks. Stiles was supposed to go shopping last week, but just kept getting busy with stupid things. Like video games or internet challenges. Currently, there was some deli meat and beef jerky, some tortillas, and about six different variations of fruit juices.  
Jerkyand apple juice it was then.  
He walked his last meal over to his notebook, grabbed his pen, and swallowed another pill with his juice.

 _To: Dad_  
Not gonna lie, i wrote you third. I didn't know what to say. Still don't. What is the proper thing to say at this moment? What am i supposed to say? Or feel? I'm feeling kinda happy right now. Happy i'm leaving haha but dont worry i'll say hi to mom. I'll tell her you love her still. I think she already knows though. Everyone else does. Sorry about your whiskey, it tastes like shit. Please don't get drunk at my funeral. That would suck big time. Just play the top ten songs on the radio and tell everyone good things about me. Also, don't use pictures of me between the ages of ten and fifteen. Thank you. I love you. Sorry for leaving you. I didn't expect to want this either

**Nine shots in. Four pills in.**

Dizzy. Wasn't his pen blue? Why is it black? Does he..own a black pen? Wait, no. Back to his notes. Important.

 _To: Derek_  
You're fuckin hot as hell. And a softy on the inside. Don't try to hide that shit bitch everyone knows trust me. i want you to know that i love you too. right now it's platonically. like id hug you and shit i'd hug the shit out of you. sorry y about your car. i didn't do it, i know, but it was expensive. no one will think less of you if you suddenly show feelings. everyone else does. The only thing i want from you to do is to just try to stop being such a lone wolf haha seriously don't it's not the end of the world for your friends to find out you have feelings

**Thirteen shots in. ten pills down.**

Should he go past eighteen? It wouldn't be very poetic...oh well. Death can only be so poetic until it's romanticised. Can't have that.

  
**Thirteen shots in. eleven pills down.**

  
Damn, he needs more apple juice.

 _To: Allison._  
Treat Scott right. i love you. please treat yourself kindly. no one deserves you. ill miss you like a lot

**Fourteen shots in. Thirteen pills down**

_To: Danny._  
Man we don't talk much but you're super cool. sorry if this is weird.

**Fifteen shots in. Sixteen pills down.**

_To: Jackson_  
Go to hell

**Fifteen shots in, one shot spilled on the table, eighteen pills down.**

_To: Melissa_  
I'm sorry i never liked your meatloaf. i loved you like a step mom. i still do. i always will. i love you.

**Fifteen shots in, two shots spills on the table, nineteen pills down.**

_To: Erica._  
Even batman loses i guess

**Sixteen shots in, three shots spilled on the table, twenty-two pills down.**

_To: vet man_  
thank you

**Seventeen shots in, three shots spilled on the table, twenty-four pills down.**

Were his legs always this tired? He couldn't feel his face or his feet, so he couldn't really tell. Should probably get some more juice. Maybe if he just..lays his head down. Two more people to write. Wait, who were they? Wait, he should go to the couch. Wait he walked to the couch now. Wait-

**Eighteen shots in. Three shots spilled on the table. Twenty five pills down.**

**That's exactly what was in Stiles Stilinski's system the night his father found him, lying on the sofa, breathless and cold.**

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this very quickly and yes i am also very sad sorry


End file.
